


Hindsight

by sabinelagrande



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: All Kink Is Sober, As Kink Should Be, Consent Play, Did I Mention The Drinking, Dorian Pavus Is Sick Of Your Shit, Drinking, Drunk Sex, Drunkenness, Frottage, Humor, M/M, Mind Games, Relationship Negotiation, Romance, Safety first, Wake-Up Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-26
Updated: 2015-02-26
Packaged: 2018-03-15 07:45:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3439217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabinelagrande/pseuds/sabinelagrande
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Iron Bull is almost certainly playing games with him. Dorian is particularly sure of this when he's been drinking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hindsight

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to [pearwaldorf](http://archiveofourown.org/users/pearwaldorf/pseuds/pearwaldorf) for looking this over and generally being great. <3
> 
> Note: There is some consent play in this story, and while it's completely consensual and undertaken while sober, some people may find it triggering. Be warned in time.

Dorian doesn't spend much time in the tavern, as a rule. It's loud, with a disorganized feel to it that rubs Dorian the wrong way. He'd rather be in the library; it's just that the library doesn't serve alcohol, and today, Dorian wants some. He wants some for a lot of reasons, but one of the most pressing is sitting at a table across the room, all by himself now that his crew has wandered off somewhere. This particular reason has been driving him out of his fucking mind, making him perform mental contortions almost daily, and just generally setting him on edge, and Dorian is _fucking done_.

Dorian is certain Bull already knows he's staring. That's probably why he's not looking over. It's probably all a scheme.

That's the thought that makes Dorian stand up, walking over and sitting down across from Bull. "I know your fucking game," he says.

Bull looks at him warily. "Are you drunk?"

"A little, but that's not the point," Dorian says, waving a hand. "You say you know so much about everyone, but you can't pin me down at all."

"Okay," Bull says, raising his eyebrow skeptically.

"You've been saying all those things about how I want what's forbidden," Dorian says. "You have no idea whether that's true or not. You planted the idea in my head to make me wonder." He opens his hand. " _Do_ I want to fuck a Qunari? Would it just be an exploration of the forbidden? Would it mean something different?" He opens his other hand. "Do I want to fuck _you_ , or would any Qunari off the street do?" He points a finger at Bull, and it only wavers a little bit. "You put it in my head just so you could see the results."

Bull sits back from the table, looking sort of like he's proud. "I see the result."

"And what is it?" Dorian demands.

"You spent your time thinking about my motivations," Bull says. "If you really wanted to fuck a Qunari just to say you did it, that's what you'd have thought about. Instead you've been driving yourself crazy wondering why I said it." He leans forward. "You want me, not somebody else."

Dorian narrows his eyes. "I hate you."

"You don't," Bull says, clapping him on the shoulder. "Drink."

"I think I've had enough," Dorian says, looking him up and down.

Bull doesn't look as surprised as Dorian would like, but the way he smirks is devastatingly attractive. "Let's get out of here."

\--

Dorian wasn't sure how this was going to work, given how fucking tall Bull is. He still doesn't, really; Bull has him up against the wall in Bull's room, holding him up by his wrists, and even though Dorian's feet are fully off the ground, Bull still somehow manages to loom over him. 

Dorian thought Bull was unpleasantly imposing, but he's liking it so much more now.

Bull somehow manages to hitch him up without dropping him, putting Dorian's legs around his waist. Dorian groans when Bull wraps a hand around both their cocks, the feeling of Bull's against his far more arousing than Dorian expected.

Bull looks at him intently for a moment. "Don't regret me in the morning," he says.

Dorian doesn't know what to say; luckily Bull kisses him, and pretty soon it gets swept away, his focus better spent on rocking his hips against Bull's and clawing at his shoulders.

\--

"You and your fucking words," Dorian hisses, clanking his tankard down hard on the bar next to Bull's.

"Yes?" Bull says, and damn him, he sounds like he thinks this is _funny._

Dorian sits down, turned so that he can stare accusingly. "You said, 'Don't regret me,'" Dorian tells him. "You didn't say, 'Don't regret doing this with someone close to you.' You didn't say, 'Don't regret doing this at all.' You put those words specifically into my head."

"You are very paranoid," Bull says, though it sounds like an endearment.

"You were a spy," Dorian points out.

Bull shrugs. "Paranoia makes it hard."

"If you make a pun right now, I will _never_ have sex with you again," Dorian says preemptively, seeing the look on Bull's face.

"So you're already planning on a repeat performance," Bull says.

"I want another drink," Dorian says, sighing.

"Are you sure?" Bull asks, giving him a significant look.

"Let me rephrase," Dorian says. "I want another drink _first_."

"Krem!" Bull calls. "Pass that over here."

"Oi, you think you get to have my private reserve just because you saved my life?" Krem asks.

"Yes," Bull replies.

"Hah!" Krem says, clearly unimpressed by the suggestion. "If you start that up, you'll be buying my drinks for the next three months."

"It's for Dorian," Bull says sweetly, holding out Dorian's empty tankard, and Dorian knows he's fucking in for it. "He wants to try it."

Dorian would like to say that he doesn't blush at Krem's knowing look, but since he can't, he'll just blame it on the alcohol. "I'll bet he does," Krem says, filling it from the bottle in his hand and passing it back. "Drink up. It's good for you."

Dorian severely doubts that, but he can't exactly back down now; he takes a drink, and it's a miracle that he doesn't spit it out immediately. "Vishante kaffas," he says, once he's stopped coughing. "What _is_ this?"

"You're the one who wanted another drink," Bull points out.

"I am rethinking that decision as we speak," Dorian says, looking suspiciously at it. 

He thinks it might be eating into the tankard.

Bull leans over to speak in his ear. "Finish your drink, and we'll be on our way," he says. "Unless you don't want to go."

"If you're expecting me to chug this in a display of bravado, I'm not going to," Dorian says. "I'm afraid it might kill me."

"Feel free to take your time," Bull says, resting his hand on Dorian's back. 

He has _very_ big hands.

Dorian takes another drink.

\--

"For the record, remarking that a drink deadens the nerves in your throat is _not_ an enticing invitation," Dorian says, still trying and failing to figure out Bull's trousers. "Sweet Maker, it's like trying to find-" he pauses. "A thing. That's trapped in... another thing."

"It's hard to miss," Bull points out, and the way his voice has deepened is unreasonably hot.

"I can very much see it," Dorian says, and can he ever. Even through Bull's ridiculous clothing, it's clear that Dorian is going to have a lot to grapple with. "I just can't-" He gives up in frustration. "If you don't get your dick out right this instant I'm not going to show you anything about my throat at all."

"Fair enough," Bull says. His hands are a little wobbly, slightly uncoordinated, and for some reason knowing that he's still a little drunk too makes Dorian feel better.

Then Bull finally pulls his dick out, and Dorian does not feel better.

"You've seen it before," Bull says, seeming confused.

"I felt it," Dorian says, unable to take his eyes off it. "I didn't actually look."

"You don't have to if you don't want to," Bull says seriously. "I'd never force you to do this."

"No," Dorian says firmly. He takes a deep breath. "No. I'm going to. Just stay still and don't put your hand on my head."

It is very clear that this thing is not getting anywhere near his throat, because getting it into his _mouth_ is going to take effort. He does it anyway, just the head to start, then a little more, a little more after that; Bull is clearly very appreciative, and Dorian wonders how many people have balked at doing this, how many have taken it on. He doesn't care, because he's going to do it _better_.

Dorian is an overachiever sometimes. This time, it's going to leave him with a very sore jaw, but that is a price he is willing to pay.

\--

Dorian should probably stop having sex with Bull, but he doesn't. Maybe that's why it takes longer this time, gnaws away at his brain slowly instead of provoking an instant reaction. But more than once there are hints, as well as incredibly blatant suggestions, and eventually Dorian's curiosity is just too much.

Bull. Such a fucking asshole.

Dorian doesn't actually make it to the tavern that time; he runs into Bull on the way over, and before Bull can greet him, Dorian tilts his head towards an empty alcove nearby.

"What's on your mind?" Bull asks, crossing his arms. Dorian gets distracted for a moment; his arms are so muscular, and it's very germane right at the moment. Bull snaps his fingers, startling Dorian. "My eyes are up here. One of them, anyway."

"When you said that about ripping my clothes off-" Dorian starts.

"Do you have a theory about what that means too?" Bull asks, though for some reason he sounds uneasy underneath his amusement.

"I just want to know if you'd actually do it," Dorian says, before he can lose his nerve.

Bull looks at him critically. "If you're drunk, then no."

Dorian shakes his head. "I only came to find you."

"Do you want me to?" Bull asks.

Dorian sighs in annoyance. "No, I'm writing your biography," he says. "Why do you _think_ I brought it up?"

Bull puts a hand on the back of Dorian's neck, and Dorian has no idea why it makes him shiver. "Let's go talk."

\--

He told Bull he could rip through his smallclothes- and _only_ his smallclothes- but Dorian's still not prepared when it actually happens. Bull just grabs the waistband and yanks, and they tear like paper. It's so much louder than he expected, and it didn't occur to him he'd be able to feel it, the material as it breaks against his skin.

Dorian wants to feel it again.

Bull shoves his legs apart, reaching for the oil that's beside the bed and opening Dorian quickly. Dorian is definitely going to feel this tomorrow, but- for now- he welcomes it, wants to remember how good this feels.

Bull pushes into him a little more roughly than usual, and Dorian can't help the noise he makes. It's too loud, but he can't bite his lip in time to stop it.

"Go on and scream," Bull says, pinning Dorian down by his wrists. "I like it when you struggle."

"Please," Dorian breathes, as Bull thrusts into him hard. "Oh, Maker-"

"Yeah, see if he'll help," Bull says, grinning. "Nobody else is going to."

"Someone will come if I yell," Dorian says, even though he knows he's not going to; he likes this far too much to stop.

Bull laughs. "They've all heard you shout my name before," he says. "You're not getting away from me that easily."

"No, please," Dorian says, even though what he actually means is _fuck yes_ ; a watchword is a beautiful thing.

\--

He sits with Bull in the tavern all the time, but for some reason, tonight Dorian feels like they're incredibly conspicuous. "Do people know about us?" he asks quietly, as he sits down.

Bull looks puzzled. "You've heard me tell people," he says. "We traumatized Cullen that one time, and Varric is still researching us when he thinks we're not paying attention-"

"Those aren't _people_ ," Dorian says. "Normal people. When we leave together, do people know why?"

"If they're paying any attention at all, then yeah," Bull says.

"It's not that-" Dorian starts, but he can't quite finish it. It's not that he's worried about scandalizing people; it's just that he's never felt out of control of it like this before. He knows that it doesn't matter here, not like it would in Tevinter, but it still makes him feel exposed, raw.

"This doesn't have to be anything you don't want it to be," Bull assures him, which only makes Dorian frustrated. "If you don't want it to mean anything, just say the word."

Dorian scoffs. "That's such a common lie that I'm not even going to dignify it with an answer."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Bull says, frowning.

"Ha," Dorian says triumphantly. "How do _you_ like it?"

"Are all mages like this?" Bull asks.

"I've never been in a relationship with one, so I can't tell you," Dorian says. He realizes half a second too late what he's said, but it's out of his mouth now.

"Another drink?" Bull asks.

"Another drink," Dorian replies, sighing.

\--

Dorian realizes slowly that the feeling he's having is not a dream; he blinks awake, looking downwards, and there's Bull beside him, bent over with Dorian's cock in his mouth. Dorian lets himself sink into the bed, giving in to it, letting Bull take care of him. Bull is so good at this, and it's a painfully short amount of time before Dorian comes, Bull's hands on his hips to keep him from bucking.

"That," Dorian says, when Bull raises his head, "is one of my most favorite ways to wake up." He rolls onto his side, reaching out for Bull. "Come here, I want to-"

"Nah, I'm fine," Bull says, gently pushing Dorian's hands away. "We should get up."

Bull is out of bed before Dorian can grab him and pull him back, and something about him, the tension in his shoulders, makes Dorian not chase after him.

It almost makes him feel like it wasn't worth it.

\--

It feels like this has been coming for a long time, and there probably isn't a better venue for it than the tavern. If this all goes as poorly as he thinks it might, the tavern is going to be ruined for him anyway; might as well get it over with now.

Dorian finally summons his courage, walking over to the bar; he doesn't sit down with Bull, stands beside him instead.

"We've got to stop meeting like this," Dorian says.

Bull must be very surprised, because Dorian can actually see it, the split-second where Bull shows how shocked he is, though it's gone the next instant. "Do you mean we have to stop running up our bar tabs in the interest of fucking, or?" Bull says, letting it trail off.

"Just come with me," Dorian says, because he's already getting more frustrated than he thought he would. "This ought to be in private."

Bull stands up; at some point Dorian got used to him, because it strikes him how he doesn't feel intimidated at all, despite the fact that he has to almost crane his neck to look at Bull's face when they're this close. "Lead the way."

\--

Dorian walks into his room, Bull following him; as soon as Bull shuts the door, Dorian rounds on him, quick enough that Bull takes a step back.

"I want you to give me the truth," Dorian demands.

"I haven't been lying to you," Bull says.

"I want it clean and unvarnished," Dorian insists. "No hidden meanings and no games."

For a moment, it looks like Bull is going to play it off, try to get out of it, but then he sighs. "You were right the first time," he admits. "I didn't know what to do with you."

"I want that in writing," Dorian says triumphantly, though it doesn't really feel like a triumph. "I stumped the great spy."

"This is not how I do things," Bull says gravely. "I wait for people to come to me. I give them exactly what they want- not one thing more, not one thing less. That is how I operate."

Dorian rolls his eyes. "You make it all sound _so_ romantic."

"It's not," Bull says, bluntly enough that it gives Dorian pause. "When I saw you, all I knew was that I wanted you. I baited you to find out what you wanted from me. I should have been more careful." His shoulders slump; it makes him look wrong, somehow. "I'm sorry."

Dorian doesn't know what to say for a moment, though he knows he has to say _something_ ; that's not a thing you just ignore, no matter how you feel about it. He's pleased to have been right, but he's also perplexed by the idea that Bull would put that much effort into it. It sounds a little exhausting.

"Well, I suppose it can't be helped," Dorian says. "I am quite irresistible. No wonder you wanted the most expedient path." His flippancy has the desired effect; Bull stops looking so fucking serious and uneasy. "Well, what have you discovered over the course of your careful study?" Dorian asks, crossing his arms. "Do you know what I want now?"

Bull stares at him for a moment. "Crap," he says, looking caught out.

"I know that look," Dorian says. "That's an 'I thought of the perfect insult the moment I left the party, but if I go back in it will seem like I care too much' look."

"The answer was in front of my face the entire time," Bull says, sounding frustrated with himself, "and I missed it."

"Don't leave me in suspense," Dorian says. "Now I'm curious."

"You want to do what's right," Bull says, and now he looks completely certain. "You want to save Tevinter from itself, but you're a reformer, not a revolutionary. You like rules and structure, even though you'll fight hard against those that you think aren't fair. You have almost no idea what it means to feel safe, to be in a place where you can be who you are and not be afraid. That's a thing you crave."

Dorian's jaw clenches. "You know, it was infuriating to have you pick away at me," he says tightly, "but listening while you vivisect me is _much_ worse."

"Let me make it perfectly clear," Bull says, taking a step closer. "I want you. I need you. Just you. We can tell no one, or we can shout it in the streets. But I want you to be mine, completely."

Dorian's heart is beating out of his chest, and he's fairly sure that Bull notices. "Was that so hard?"

"Much more so than you realize," Bull says, which makes no sense to Dorian at all. "Do I get an answer?"

"You already know," Dorian says, a little indignant. "I thought you already had all of this figured out. You're the one who's been running me ragged, all because you're too fucking selfless to-"

"Say it," Bull says. "Plainly. Out loud."

"Of course I want you," Dorian tells him, putting his arms around Bull's waist, resting his head on Bull's chest. "It sounds-" Dorian doesn't have a good word to go there. It sounds like what he's always assumed he'll never have; it sounds too good to be true; it sounds too easy; it sounds like exactly what he wants. "Nice."

Thankfully, Bull doesn't press him for a more emphatic answer; he wraps Dorian up in his arms, kissing him on the head. "I'll do better," Bull promises.

Dorian pulls back, looking at him. "This is _not_ going to be about you trying to study me and give me what you think I want," he says, more fiercely than he expected. "If I'm yours, then you're mine. I want to care for you just as much, and I will not be satisfied without it. We will do this together, or we won't do it at all."

Bull visibly relaxes. "Sounds good to me, kadan."

It's possibly a little ridiculous that Dorian has to grab Bull's shoulders, hoist himself up, and wrap his legs around Bull's waist if he wants to look at Bull face to face, but one must make sacrifices; on the bright side, he's ready if anyone needs a tree climbed. "Is that Qunlat for, 'Dorian, you are the most wonderful and charming person I have ever met and I'm not sure how I ever breathed without you'?" he asks.

Bull laughs, holding Dorian up easily. "Not quite," he says. "I don't know if you can actually say that in Qunlat."

"Then you'll have to think of another way to tell me," Dorian says. "If you're lucky, I might even respond in kind."

"Why don't I just show you?" Bull says, carrying him to the bed.

"Now, there's a plan," Dorian says approvingly. "Some languages are universal, after all."

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Hindsight [PODFIC]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3737068) by [Opalsong](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Opalsong/pseuds/Opalsong)




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